Free dong rides, inquire inside after Sunday School

Another day with that I’ve forgotten my cell phone at home… sigh. What am I supposed to do if an emergency happens? Blow the rape whistle my grandmother gave to me on my 23rd birthday?! Though it has saved me hide more than I care to mention, what about bears? What about gremlins and aliens, or even an asteroid. How the hell am I supposed to destroy an asteroid on a set course to collide with Earth without my BlackBerry? Sigh, it’s another sad DVDuesday.

Actually, even though I forgot my phone I’m feeling good because its raining outside and gloomy. I’ve always had good fortune on days like this so maybe that’s why I get so psyched up about rainy days. Other people have wonderful sunny days, well, f*ck the sun. I’ve already had one good e-mail that surprised me (I won the f’n lottery, not really) and that’s one more than most days offer. Bring on my elephant that can balance a stick while standing on a ball. What, if I were king that’s all I would want to see. Oh, and a woman with three breasts… tee hee.

I’m excited about our show at Catholic University on Saturday, I wish I could give the entire line-up but here is who I know to be there: Will Hessler, Jake Young and who the f*ck is Tyler Richardson? Oh well, he’ll be there too. That’s all I know, sorry if I left someone out but I’m looking forward to it either way.

And yes, for those that haven't seen that picture already, that is Lil Wayne kissing Baby (Birdman)... I'm still a fan but damn.

I had a dream last night about eating ice cream… yep, that’s how you first start walking down the road to fatdom. I’ve taken a lot of pictures of my face lately, so if I get fat I can still be sexy for my wife. My wife will get ready for the usual Wednesday night “boogey” when she hears “Dear, we’re going to try something new…” What? She’ll ask… “Well, I thought a little role play. I’m going to be the man you married tonight!” (I come out in a plastic mask of myself sucking my gut in to mimic the abs of my 20’s. Blaring behind me is my son holding a boom box playing It’s raining men by the weather girls. Right around the part where they say “I’m going to go out, I’m gonna let myself get, ABSOLUTELY SOAKING WET!!!!” I start pouring hot butter on the crack of my wife’s behind. Then I excuse my son, cause it’s Mr. Nasty time, and make sweet passionate unprotected baby no. 2. His name… Brockula Quagmire Richardson. Yes, long live me.

I bought a new pair of loafers last week. When I wore them last Friday my left foot was killing me. It made me wish I tried things on more, but I hate it so I won’t. This morning while changing from my slippers to dress shoes in the car I noticed I’d overlooked something. There was still a cardboard piece lining the shoe I would never have seen without sticking my head in there. My foot feels a lot better now. You’re welcome.

The hardest part of diarrhea is constantly excusing yourself from the table whenever someone makes you laugh. So I’ve heard.

In some cultures, being invited to have breakfast (or any meal) at the Waffle House is considered a polite offer. For future record, if I ever invite you to the Waffle House, know that you or someone very close to you have or will die. I would bring the body into the back and tell everyone it’s your birthday. When all the “staff” (its in quotation marks because the word staff tickles me… staff) comes to sing to you I’ll stand up “And your mother just had to be here…” (A box is slid in front of you) What’s in the box isn’t as important as the look on your face when you see. Picture seeing nothing but ears in a box after someone just said that. Morbid, but still tickles me, I know I’m strange. Next…

24 was OFF THE HINGES last night! I haven’t rooted and screamed at a television since momma put on Soul Plane at Thanksgiving a couple years back (I didn’t really scream but she and my grandmother honestly thought it would be a good movie. They robbed me of 2 hours of my life that I can never have back).

I would love to begin answering every question at work with “I look too good to ____.” The only reason I don’t is because I don’t want someone to give me too much truth and hurt my feelings. I’m just a big squishy teddy bear, soft and emotional. But packin’ D*CK.

My lips are chapped, I’m off to go check out young mothers (can’t anyone make it to 30 without having kids) who frequent… the building. (What takes me 15 minutes will take you two seconds because this isn’t in real time)

Jermaine, I read that comment from yesterday and Mercedes is an (attractive) old friend. I doubt she wants the chode, but if so I’ll need to put on more cologne. I leak sulfur around pretty women.

Eli, I will be at hot broth Thursday. I hope that I see you there. I’ll the anti-social black guy in the corner. Probably hugged up on Kyle Martin or some random woman that been separated from her cubs… yeah, you heard me.

Mmmm, ranch dressing with celery and carrots. Oh, that Trix rabbit doesn’t know what he’s missing. What sick bastard would give a rabbit cereal? That’s why you don’t feed animals people food, now he’s a smackhead for Trix cereal.

It’s stupid, but I laughed this morning after thinking to myself “Wow, it’s raining bullfrogs and foreskin out here.” You’re welcome.

Alright, I’m going to actually get some work done now.

Peaces